


Illegal

by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)



Series: Sterek A-Z Challenge [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Grovelling Derek, M/M, Misunderstanding, Stubborn Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-10-20 00:13:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10651002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasterella/pseuds/isthatbloodonhisshirt
Summary: “Scotty. I told you. Mountain Ash barrier is still up. If you need to talk to me, that’s what cell phones are for.” He reached the window and wrenched it open, leaning out so he could stare down at the pile of limbs on his front lawn, where the werewolf had fallen after his failed attempt at entering Stiles’ house. “Besides, if dad’s on the night shift, the doorbell works, too. You don’t need to—”The words died in his throat when the face that looked up at him didnotbelong to Scott.Derek Hale.Derek Hale was standing in his front yard.





	Illegal

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf (c) Jeff Davis

Stiles had grown accustomed to hearing many sounds throughout his life living in Beacon Hills. He was used to the cars, and the screaming children. Screaming adults. Roaring. Howling. Agonized cries of terror. Evil cackling of murderous druids. Shuffling steps of the walking dead.

Okay, that took a wrong turn, but point was! Stiles was used to hearing many things living in Beacon Hills, and he was fairly familiar with most of them.

What he was _not_  used to, was hearing a loud bang at his window that had him jerk into an upright position in bed, and then muttered cursing from outside.

Turning bleary eyes towards his window, he let out an annoyed sigh and rubbed at his face with one hand, throwing the covers off himself with the other.

“Scotty. I told you. Mountain Ash barrier is still up. If you need to talk to me, that’s what cell phones are for.” He reached the window and wrenched it open, leaning out so he could stare down at the pile of limbs on his front lawn, where the werewolf had fallen after his failed attempt at entering Stiles’ house. “Besides, if dad’s on the night shift, the doorbell works, too. You don’t need to—”

The words died in his throat when the face that looked up at him did _not_  belong to Scott.

Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was standing in his front yard, looking constipated and angry, as per usual. His movements were slow and careful when he got to his feet, like he’d hurt himself falling off the roof, but he just straightened out his jacket and scowled up at Stiles.

His chest ached at the sight of him, at having Derek be here. Right here, in front of his house. Having attempted to climb in through his window, like he’d used to do back when things had been... different.

Back before he’d upped and left without a fucking word to anyone.

Stiles clenched his hands into fists against the sill, being sure not to disturb the line of powder that was currently stopping Derek from entering his house.

“That’s breaking and entering, you know,” he muttered, struggling to keep his voice steady, despite his heart slamming against his ribs like it was trying to escape his chest. “You ever hear of a door?”

Derek just stared up at him, still scowling, like it was Stiles’ fault he’d gotten hurt. Like it was _Stiles_ ’ fault he’d been gone so long that he’d started putting Mountain Ash around the house to keep it safe from unwanted guests!

Really?! How was it Derek was back all of five seconds and already Stiles had pissed him off just for existing?! Well, no. Not this time. This time, Stiles was going to be pissed at _Derek_. Oh yeah! This was a thing now! This was a thing that was happening!

“Come back during regular business hours, I’m closed for the night.”

Stiles slammed the window shut, hastily checking the Mountain Ash line to make sure he hadn’t displaced any.

He hadn’t.

Nodding, satisfied, he turned and headed back to bed, crawling under the covers and turning his back on his window just as he heard something shifting on his roof. Derek was still muttering curses under his breath, and Stiles could hear him trying to get the window open, but failing miserably because the Mountain Ash was too close to the sill.

“Stiles, let me in.”

“No, I’m sleeping,” he replied stubbornly, throwing the blanket over his head in an attempt to prove his point.

“Stiles.” Derek was using The Tone. The one that said, “I’m exasperated right now, and really wish you weren’t so stubborn, but using this tone usually makes you give up and do what I say so I’ll keep using it until you do as I say.”

Well not this time! Oh no! No sirree!

“Let me in, now.”

“Or what?” Stiles threw the blankets off himself and turned, glaring over his shoulder at Derek. “You’ll disappear on me again? Go right ahead! See if I care!”

He did care. A lot. But he was also determined to stay mad, so he just flipped Derek the bird and turned his back on him again, pulling the covers over his head once more.

During all the bullshit with the Beserkers and Kate and almost killing Scott and Derek becoming a wolf... during all that bullshit, Stiles knew things would change. After Derek hadn’t died, Stiles had kind of had a lapse in judgement and crushed him into a hug.

That had turned into making out somehow, which he tried not to think about because Scott had looked crossed between horrified and betrayed. Braeden had looked defeated, like she’d known she was a replacement for someone, and had finally realized Derek was into dicks, which she was severely lacking.

Or, Stiles thought she was severely lacking. He would be the first to admit he didn’t know what Braeden had in her pants. Maybe she had both a dick _and_  a vagina, who knew?

Well, Derek, but he was getting off-track on why he was mad!

The making out had happened, and it had been great. So had the mind-blowing sex that had followed. If Stiles had known all this time that Derek had wanted to jump his bones, he would’ve been a _lot_  more annoying until the other snapped and he finally got laid. Because _damn_. Just damn.

And then Stiles had woken up the next morning. Alone. Naked. In Derek’s loft.

To a note.

A fucking _note_.

All it said was he was leaving with Braeden. That was it. No heartfelt goodbye. No ‘thanks for everything.’ Not even any comment whatsoever on how he felt or what Stiles was meant to be thinking. No, just a fucking note that literally said:

_Stiles. Going hunting with Braeden. Take care of Scott. Derek._

And Derek thought he could just fucking throw himself back through Stiles’ window like he’d been gone for two hours instead of _sixteen fucking months_?! Oh _hell_  no! Stiles wasn’t taking that! No, he was not someone to fuck with.

Derek Hale was pretty, and amazing in bed, and his stubble was so fucking awesome and Stiles wanted to rub his hands all over it and— _focus!_ —but none of that mattered! None of that amazing Derek Hale-ness was going to save him from being pointedly ignored!

Stiles was sleeping! This was what sleep looked like. Here and now. Sleeping. So much sleeping.

“Stiles, let me in. Now.”

“Sleeping!” See? Stiles knew what he was doing. Sleeping.

“We need to talk.”

“Go away before I throw wolfsbane at you and you fall off my roof again!”

“Stiles.” He was using The Tone again.

Stiles just shifted his pillow and curled it around his head so it would block out Derek’s low timbre that was doing way too many things to his body, what the fuck.

He stayed like that for a good twenty minutes, unable to sleep. It was hard resisting the urge to roll over and see if Derek was still there, but somehow, he managed. He just kept glaring at his wall, determined to be pissed and unwilling to speak to him.

Childish, perhaps, but when had Derek ever been known to _speak_  to people? He just did that thing with his eyebrows, scowled, glared, injured and then disappeared for sixteen months. Because apparently that was what Derek Hale did. Like a giant werewolf asshole.

Stiles practically propelled out of bed, heart slamming in his chest, when his phone rang shrilly. It took his disoriented brain a few seconds to figure out what was going on, because it was bright out, his roof was devoid of any lurking werewolves, and he had no idea why his phone was ringing some random country tune instead of its usual default setting. He was betting on his dad. He had a terrible sense of humour.

“Hello?” Stiles asked, half his body lying on the floor, the other half on his bed. He must’ve fallen asleep somewhere between hating Derek and wanting to drag him into the bedroom for some sex.

Was it weird he still wanted to have sex with him? Probably not, Derek was a fine specimen, even a straight guy could admit that.

_“I need to come over! My dad’s in town and my mom invited him for lunch.”_

Stiles winced in disgust, grunted for Scott to just ring the bell when he got there, and then hung up. Rolling onto his back, legs still up on his bed and notebook digging into his lower back, Stiles scrubbed at his face for a few seconds before tilting his head back to stare at his window.

He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d dreamt it. After all, if Derek were back in town, wouldn’t people know about it? It wasn’t like Derek would arrive and immediately come see Stiles, so he had to have dreamt it.

Struggling to his feet, he shuffled over to his window and stared down at the Mountain Ash. It was disturbed, meaning he’d definitely opened his window, but Stiles often got hot in the middle of the night and opened it while still half-asleep. He’d probably imagined Derek, because it felt good to be mad at him every now and then.

Wandering into the bathroom, he relieved himself and brushed his teeth, heading downstairs to grab some food. Checking the time on the microwave, he found it was just past two in the afternoon, and he was glad he didn’t have classes. He’d have missed them. His dad wouldn’t have been happy to know he was paying for a college education Stiles wasn’t taking advantage of.

He was in the middle of pouring himself cereal when the doorbell rang so he wandered over to the door and opened it. Before he could even say or do anything, Scott was staring at him wide-eyed.

“It smells like Derek. Why does it smell like Derek? Is Derek here?!”

“What? No.” Stiles frowned, unsure if he was more or less annoyed at finding out it wasn’t a dream. “Apparently he’s back in town.” Stiles kicked at the line of Mountain Ash by the door, breaking the barrier so Scott could come in. He immediately put it back into place once he’d passed. Ever since the Leprechaun incident eight months ago, Stiles was very conscious of keeping his home safe.

“Did you guys talk?”

“About what?” Stiles demanded, moving back to the kitchen to grab his breakfast.

“About how he just left without saying anything.”

“No.”

He shook the box loudly to drown out Scott’s questions, and made a big show of not being able to hear him over the sound of his own chewing. Scott was a little slow on the uptake, but he eventually got the point and let it go, the two of them moving to play video games in the living room.

It was an awkward and uncomfortable day, because Scott was obviously upset about his dad and looking for a distraction, and Stiles would murder him if he brought up Derek one more time.

By dinner, they had officially remained silent for two hours, and when Scott left after nightfall, they’d only exchanged words to talk about their schedules the next day since they had a pack meeting but Stiles also had a midterm he definitely should’ve been studying for.

Waving his friend off after breaking the barrier, Stiles bent down to put the Mountain Ash back into place and then shut the door, locking it to keep out any unwanted _human_  guests.

Rubbing the back of his head with a sigh, he turned off the lights downstairs and trudged up towards his bedroom, figuring he could shower and get a good night’s sleep so he was well rested for the exam he was about to fail.

Stripping off his shirt in the hallway, he pushed open his bedroom door, throwing the dirty item in the general vicinity of his hamper, and then flipped on the light.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” he shouted, flailing so hard he tripped over his own feet and fell over backwards, landing hard on the carpeted floor half inside his room and half out of it. “What the fuck!”

Derek was sitting in his desk chair, looking particularly villainous with his fingers steepled together and his face set in its usual scowl.

“How did you get in here?! There’s a barrier!”

“I saw Scott come in. You’d have to let him out eventually.”

“So you just waited like a creepy creeper stalker wolf?” Stiles demanded, struggling to his feet because lying on the floor while talking to Derek was just weird. “You know that’s breaking and entering, right? That thing that’s against the law? You did that illegal thing to the sheriff’s house.”

“You didn’t mind before.”

“We were friends before,” he muttered, wishing he still had his shirt on. Since he didn’t, he just crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

“We’re still friends.”

“No, we’re not,” Stiles snapped. “Friends don’t have mind-blowing sex with other friends and then leave the next morning without a word for sixteen months.”

Derek’s frown deepened. “I left a note.”

“Did you even _read_  your note?!” Stiles demanded, forgetting he was meant to be covering himself up self-consciously and flailing his arms instead. “You told me to take care of Scott because you were going hunting with Braeden! The girl you were having sex with before me!”

“She’s a mercenary,” Derek insisted. “She knew where to find Kate.”

Stiles stared at him, wondering if it was possible for someone to be that stupid. He knew Derek was socially awkward, but really? _Really_?

“Is this actually happening?” Stiles motioned himself, then Derek. “Are you honestly not seeing what you did here? I’m confused.”

“I was coming back.”

“What am I, a mind-reader?” Stiles demanded. “You didn’t tell me that! You just left! Which is what you’re going to do now. I’m going to shower. Get out.” He stormed towards his window and broke the line of Mountain Ash, motioning for Derek to get his big werewolf butt out of his chair and back out the way he’d come. “Let’s go. Outside. Now.”

“Will you just talk to me?” Derek growled, making no move to stand from the chair.

“No! I don’t know you! You’re a thief! A thief who broke into my house! My dad’s the sheriff, get out before I call him to come arrest you!”

He got a _real_  look for that one, but Derek didn’t seem concerned. Just to prove him wrong, Stiles fumbled for the phone in his pocket, pulling it out and getting ready to dial when he felt the item being wrenched from his hand and he was shoved backwards against the closest wall.

Well, at least some things never changed. Derek still liked pushing him around. Stiles shouldn’t have felt as relieved as he did for how easily things were falling back into a routine.

“Stiles! Just _listen_!” Derek snapped, eyes flashing blue and fangs elongating.

“I’m gonna scream like a girl. Don’t think I won’t. Mrs. Grueber next door has taken an interest in my well-being ever since the Chimera last month.”

Derek gave him a weird look but he waved the words away. The story was too long to explain, and he didn’t want to have to tell Derek about it.

“I had to find Kate,” Derek insisted. “I had to get rid of her before she hurt anyone else.”

“Like you hurt me?” Stiles demanded. “And the pack? When you just up and left without a word?”

“I was coming back!” Derek shouted. Had Stiles not already been used to this, he might’ve been scared. As it was, the barrier was broken and Scott was a good pet wolf. He would come running if something smelled off or if Lassie went to tell him about how Stiles fell down the well.

“You should’ve known I was coming back,” Derek insisted.

“How could I _possibly_  know you were coming back?!” Stiles countered angrily.

“Because I told you I would do anything to keep you safe and that Kate was a threat I needed to handle so that you wouldn’t ever be put in that kind of danger again!”

Stiles opened his mouth to argue, then paused, a thought occurring to him. He _did_  remember some post-coital snuggling wherein Derek had been half-asleep and probably exhausted beyond belief because he’d been playing with Stiles’ hair and mumbling things about keeping him safe and making sure no one ever came after him again.

He hadn’t thought about it much at the time, but looking back, maybe Derek hadn’t said anything in the note because he’d been mumbling about how much he cared about him and keeping him safe while they’d been snoozing after the mind-blowing sex.

He hated that his brain kept going back to that, but it really _had_  been mind-blowing. Derek did this thing with his hips that Stiles didn’t even know was _possible_ , and it was just so _good_  and now he was thinking about it and— _focus!_

“You didn’t even text,” Stiles muttered. “We all thought you were dead.”

“My phone got smashed and I never ended up replacing it. I wasn’t planning on being gone this long.”

Stiles said nothing for a moment, then sighed. “Can you put me down?”

Derek stared at him, then seemed to realize he was pushing Stiles against the wall so hard that he’d actually been lifting him off the ground. He set him back down, releasing him and taking a step back, scowling once more.

“I just want to talk,” Derek muttered.

Stiles considered this request for a moment, eying him suspiciously before shrugging and wandering to the window. He put the Mountain Ash back into place and then headed out of his bedroom so he could go shower.

“Where are you going?” Derek followed behind him.

“Shower. Figure if I trap you here, you can’t run off on me again.” He paused at the bathroom doorway and turned to him, giving him a look. “Good luck escaping from this house, Derek. You’re gonna wish you’d stayed outside. Or have you forgotten how much I can talk?”

Derek just scowled, but Stiles grinned, feeling a little lighter for the first time since the night before when he’d seen the other’s grumpy face staring up at him from his lawn.

“Buckle up, sourwolf. We’re going to have a long night.”

Stiles slammed and locked the bathroom door, hoping Derek heard _and_  smelled him jerking off in the shower. Derek was going to disappear on him for sixteen months? Stiles was going to make sure he regretted that decision.

He was nothing if not thorough.

**END.**


End file.
